


brother

by ayuminb, winterslady



Series: Jonsa Kink Week [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (this time for real omg), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous Feelings, Ambiguous Relationships, Anon decided to come off Anon, Collaboration with Anon, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Jonsa Kink Week, Morally Ambiguous Characters, Power Dynamics, Shameless Smut, The Sin is Too Real, This is a Sequel to SISTER, Voyeurism, see you all in hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 08:28:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13609491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayuminb/pseuds/ayuminb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterslady/pseuds/winterslady
Summary: It was just supposed to be a simple lesson.





	brother

Cersei had been sent back to Casterly Rock by her father. The queen had not taken her banishment to the westerlands well, but she was allowed to bring her two favourite toys with her. With the war being waged in the North, Jon and Sansa were more than just Cersei’s sex dolls, they were valuable hostages.

 

Sansa was dressed in fine silk and lace, she was bathed and perfumed with scented oils. Rarely was she allowed out of the queen’s sight. Sansa had become Cersei’s favourite pet. Cersei delighted in taking care of her and toying with her emotions. Cersei loved to watch her squirm, but Sansa had her pride and she rarely indulged the queen’s desires.

 

Cersei kept Sansa close to her at all times. Today they were riding outside the gates of Casterly Rock.

 

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” The queen asked, laughing as Sansa struggled with her horse.

 

She was out of practice from being kept holed up in King’s Landing for so many years, and she’d never loved to ride. She was sweaty and miserable in the burning southern sun. “No, Your Grace,” Sansa replied truthfully.

 

Behind them a hundred paces, Jon and the Kettleblack brothers kept diligent guard.

 

“We’ll have to fix that. You’re my ward, after all, and your shortcomings reflect badly on me,” Cersei smiled at her, and Sansa returned the smile dutifully.

 

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

 

“I’ll give you remedial riding lessons myself. Tonight, in my chambers.”

 

“In your chambers?” Sansa asked, squinting in the sun to look at the queen. The expression on Cersei’s face was wicked and Sansa’s stomach tightened. Sansa knew what was coming as soon as she saw the glint in Cersei’s eye, and her lips parted in anticipation.

 

“You clearly can’t handle a horse, so you’ll practice by riding your brother’s cock. I must admit, I do like watching him take on you on all fours, but you’ll learn to like this, my sweet, I promise.”

 

Sansa blushed at the thought. In truth, Cersei’s attempts to humiliate her had never worked. Sansa found she liked to be watched. Now that she was a ruined woman, she was no longer seen as a fit wife for the high lord of Lord Tywin’s choosing. Instead, Cersei had decided she wanted to breed Jon and Sansa, to fill her with her bastard brother’s seed. _“To Humiliate you like your father tried to humiliate me with his filthy lies,”_ Cersei had said with disgust.

 

But Sansa knew better. It wasn’t simply mechanical for the Queen. She wanted more than for Sansa’s womb to quicken and to humiliate the Starks. If that had been all the queen wanted, her hands wouldn’t make their way to her own cunt as she watched Sansa’s brother defile her.

 

“Jon,” Cersei called back over her shoulder to summon her brother.

 

After a few months in Cersei’s service, Jon had become one of Cersei’s favourites. He was hardworking and did anything Cersei asked without complaint. _To keep me safe_ , Sansa thought with a smile. She had never cared much for Jon back at Winterfell, but now his quick arrival on a white horse made her heart beat faster. Their nightly couplings were Sansa’s favourite time of day.

 

“Your Grace,” Jon said, his head bowed slightly. “How many I be of service?” Jon’s eyes flickered to Sansa and she smiled from the corner of her mouth to let him know everything was all right.

 

*****

 

Jon had been half expecting Sansa to be miserable during this outing, never having had much of a liking for riding, that one. He could still hear the echo of her whispers this very morning, one of the rare occasions where they'd found themselves alone. She complained about the dirt and the humidity and the heat and the sweat and _it'll be a nightmare, Jon, I'll fake a headache_.

 

She hadn't, though, and now, coming up next to her at Cersei's call, he wondered if she was regretting it. Except, suddenly she didn't look as miserable as he'd thought – still unhappy, but enduring nonetheless. And blushing, a little shyly and smiling tentatively at him.

 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, suddenly, in anticipation; like they did every time he was summoned to the Queen's chambers, only to find his sister in various states of undress, ready to begin playing these games anew. Every night without fail, Jon was a little surprised that he'd not fathered a bastard on Sansa yet. Though supposed Cersei had a way to make sure of that.

 

He looked at the older woman, trying to seem eager to please, and waited for her command.

 

"Would you say you're a proficient rider, Jon?"

 

The rosy tint of Sansa's cheeks spread to encompass the whole of her face and travel down her neck. He might not know Cersei as well as Sansa did, but he knew her enough by now to understand her question was due to more than just curiosity.

 

"Good enough, Your Grace."

 

He'd been among the best both in Winterfell and in Castle Black.

 

"I'd say you're more than good enough," she smirked, continuing before he could thank her. "So unlike our dear Lady Sansa."

 

That was true, which is why he didn't react, didn't thinking much of the comment beyond trying to reign in his anger at the backhanded insult thrown at his sister. For all Cersei kept Sansa close and dressed her in the finest gowns, making sure she looked perfect all the time—a perfect little porcelain doll—it made his blood boil how malicious she was about it all. Getting crueler the more Sansa refused to break, enduring the verbal abuse with all the grace befitting a Queen.

 

So he keeps quite, biting his tongue too stop the words of defense to come out to cause trouble. Cersei didn't like it much when he got overly protective of Sansa; oh, she found it funny, but not for long.

 

"She should learn how to do it properly, don't you think?"

 

Sansa wouldn't look at him yet, so he could not make an educated guess as to the purpose of this topic. The sharp glance from the Queen told him she awaited an answer.

 

"I… Lady Sansa could use some practice." Cersei smirked, thinly veiled triumph lurking in her eyes. "You would like to help your little sister be a proficient rider, wouldn't you, Jon?"

 

Sansa lifted her gaze, then, letting rest on him, heated and hungry and, suddenly, Jon knew where this was going. Blue on grey and he felt his blood thrum in a newfound anticipation.

 

"I'd like that very much, Your Grace."

 

"Tonight into my chambers, then, I expect you both to be there right after supper."

 

*****

 

“You’re filthy,” Cersei said when they returned to her chambers. “Fill my tub,” she instructed her handmaiden. When her maid left the room, Cersei turned back to her. “Are you going to undress, or do you need me to take your dress off for you.”

 

The queen could be cruel, but she took good care of Sansa too. Sansa had come to like Cersei’s touch. “I could use the help,” Sansa said, looking at the floor as her cheeks flushed.

 

“Of course you could,” Cersei said.

 

Usually when the queen stripped her naked she would be rough with the garments, often ripping Sansa’s corsets and shifts to get her naked. They would always be replaced or mended the next morning. The queen wanted to make sure her doll looked her best. Tonight, however, Cersei’s touch was gentle. She untied the back of Sansa’s corset and freed Sansa’s breasts. She tugged the bodice of the dress down and her skirts fell to the floor.

 

In the North, Sansa wore thick woollen petticoats under her gown. Here, the only small clothes  wore only a corset and a garter belt to hold up her stockings. Sansa stepped out of her dress and stood before the queen in only her silk stockings.

 

The queen looked at Sansa with lust in her eyes. Once Sansa had been in awe of Cersei’s beauty, but now it was the queen who trembled before Sansa. Cersei moved closer to her. She placed one hand on Sansa’s waist and ran the other along Sansa’s stomach.

 

“Do you think you’re with child, yet?”

 

“No, Your Grace,” Sansa said.

 

The queen frowned, “that won’t do.”

 

Cersei’s hand ran down her stomach in between her legs. Her carresses turned rougher when her hand reached Sansa’s cunt. Cersei didn’t like it gentle for long. Sansa pressed her cunt into Cersei’s hand and the queen snickered. When they’d began, Sansa had merely wanted to keep her pride. But now she awaited the queen’s advances all day. She had been craving Cersei’s hands almost as much as she craved her brother’s cock. Cersei’s fingers slipped inside her. The queen was never gentle with her, not like Jon was.

 

The maid returned but Cersei didn’t move away from Sansa. Sansa’s cunt tightened around Cersei’s fingers when she realized she was being watched. The queen didn’t really care about propriety towards her hostage — she preferred everyone to know who Sansa belonged to.

 

“The bath is ready, Your Grace,” the maid said. The servant’s eyes did not shy away. Casterly Rock had grown used to this sort of thing quickly.

 

“That will be all,” Cersei said, dismissing the maid. Her fingers curled inside of Sansa.

 

Despite the audience, Sansa couldn’t suppress a sigh. When the maid left, Cersei’s removed her hand and urged her towards the bath. Even after all this time, Cersei had never let Sansa come. The queen only let her come around her brother’s cock, she merely worked Sansa into such a state that she was begging for Cersei to let her fuck her brother. She did just that as she bathed Sansa. Cersei ran soap between her legs and caressed her breasts under the warm water. Twice she had almost come apart, twice Cersei had smirked and pulled away.

 

*****

 

Jon arrived on time, as always. He'd never risked being defiant, to challenge Cersei's orders, knowing Sansa would most likely pay the consequences. He would never risk anything that might befall his sister, thus he was obedient.

 

There was more to just being obedient when hurrying to the Queen's chambers in Casterly Rock now, though. It had been more than that for a _while_. So when Jon crossed the threshold, his cock was already throbbing; briefly, he wondered if Cersei would have him fuck Sansa right away, bent over the nearest flat surface. She'd done that before, didn't even let him strip before she gave the order and relaxed to enjoy the show. He was quick to pick up on what the Queen liked, though - a full display of his sweet sister, it was what made Cersei slip her own hand between her legs.

 

He'd been incredibly proud when he picked up on that; proud and so fucking aroused the first time it happened, because it made his sister's cunt flutter and clench around his cock deliciously. _Sansa had liked that realization just as much._ So Jon was not surprised by the sight that welcomed him.

 

Cersei kneeling besides the tub, an arm plunged under the water and Sansa letting out little whimpers from her place in the water. The Queen waited until he closed the door before speaking. "Strip, Jon, and lay back on the bed."

 

“Yes, Your Grace.”

 

He turned around and took his time pulling off his clothes, mostly because the sounds of splashing water that were soon followed by Sansa’s sighs and whimpers. It was fucking _distracting_. Jon knew better than to turn around, and look – sometimes he’d be allowed to do so, tonight was not one of those time, or Cersei would have told him.

 

“Lady Sansa is ready for her lessons.”

 

His sister’s moans washed over him, making his cock twitch eagerly at what was to come. The Queen was very cruel to Sansa, but this is one aspect of her cruelty that didn’t bring forth the urge to jump in her defense. _Quite the opposite,_ he thought, and laid back on the bed, fisting his hands over the silky sheets as this, touching himself to relieve tension wasn’t allowed either. And soon enough, Cersei brought Sansa to the bedside.

 

“You are to straddle his face, Sansa.”

 

That shocked them; he and Sansa exchanged a quick glance before they both turned to stare at the Queen. Who simply smirked at them and urged her ward to get onto the bed.

 

“I thought – I thought I would be riding… his cock?”

 

He thought so too, but _this_ , oh this was _good too_. Something Jon had come to enjoy just as much as having his cock buried deep into her sweet cunt. Ever since that first day, Jon was good and hardworking and obedient, because then he got to ask for _this_ , a taste of his sister, and Cersei would grant it. He extended his hands, waiting until Sansa had a firm hold of them and then helped her get in a good position to hover over his face.

 

Under the smell of the perfumed oils that were rubbed on her skin, her own scent assaulted his senses, forcing a needy groan past his lips. His whole damn body trembles in anticipation; he longed to make her unravel with his tongue alone, hoped it would be so tonight. Jon let go of her hands to grab onto her ass, only barely resisting the urge to _start_. And now, Jon also had a partial view of what Cersei might _do_ to Sansa.

 

“Did you sit a horse when you began your lessons, Jon?”

 

“No, Your Grace,” he said, locked his gaze on that of his sister, and licked his lips. “A pony.”

 

Cersei hummed, lifting her hand to fondle Sansa’s chest, rolling and pinching her nipples between her fingers. “You need to learn the basics, Sansa,” she said, stroking down the soft skin until she reached between Sansa’s legs. “So you shall learn to ride his face, first.”

 

His cock twitched again, throbbing painfully and eager for any kind of release; the Queen rubbed his sister’s cunt _mere inches away from his face_ and Jon began wondering if going straight to fucking might be the better option. And then Cersei retreated, leaving Sansa panting and shaking, and looked at him. “Show her how, Jon.”

 

He nodded, met Sansa’s gaze, and licked his lips once more. “Like this,” he said, using his hold to tilt her hips forward, then guiding them into a swaying motion, before tilting them back. “That is… what following a canter should feel like.” He repeated the movement, pulling her closer to his mouth. “I’ll help you along.”

 

And then he licked, one firm stroke of his tongue over her folds that teared off a gasp from his sister. He kept at it, licking and occasionally sucking; Sansa was already dripping when he began, from the Queen’s teasing, already on the verge, so it wasn’t long before she began shaking from her approaching release. He tightened his hold to keep her hips steady in their movement, his sweet sister was a quick study, already having picked up what must be done and rode his face as she’d been doing it for a long time. Which, unfortunately wasn’t so, he’d only given Sansa the Lord’s Kiss on her back or when she knelt to be taken from behind.

 

“Jon…!”

 

 _She’s close,_ he thought, delving his tongue through her fold and into her slowly, while he moved his thumb to rub quick circles over her nub. Sansa moaned louder, moved faster, losing control and Jon might’ve spent his seed had it not been for the sharp voice of Cersei.

 

“Gain control of the situation, _Sansa_ , lest you end up tumbling off your mount.”

 

His sister grabs his hair in a unforgiving grip; it only made him burn hotter for it. He groans, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, Jon sucked on her nub and lashed mercilessly  at it with the tip of his tongue until Sansa unraveled with a loud moan.

 

*****

 

Sansa sighed with relief at the release. But she knew better than to stop if the queen has not commanded her to. Her body was not hers to control but rather Queen Cersei’s, and even the thought of submitting to her could make Sansa wet. So she continued to ride Jon’s face, even though her clit was so sensitive it was almost painful and her cunt ached for his cock.

 

“Good girl,” Cersei said, and somehow the praise made it all worth it. Sansa hated the queen, she truly did... but... Sansa ached for her approval and craved her touch.

 

Jon continued to lick her and Sansa moaned loudly. It was all she could do to say astride him. “Thank you, your grace,” Sansa choked out, and the queen grinned.

 

Cersei stood from her perch and walked over to the bed. Sansa grabbed at Jon’s hair and tried to keep steady and he moaned beneath her, the vibrations against her clit almost made Sansa lose her balance. To make matters worse, Cersei’s hands again rubbed gently across Sansa’s body. Her touch was as light as a feather as she stoked down Sansa’s stomach and finally cupped Sansa’s breasts. Cersei’s thumbs rubbed over Sansa’s nipples so sweetly before Cersei’s eyes darkened and she pinched Sansa’s nipples hard between her fingers. Sansa gasped but Cersei only pinched her harder. It was all Sansa needed to come again.

 

“I need...” Sansa choked out.

 

“You need what?” Cersei asked, “you’ve been such a good girl, you do deserve a reward.”

 

“I need Jon’s cock.”

 

Cersei gave her Jon’s cock... and so much more.


End file.
